


Drabble Collection: Red Oktoberfest

by Oddport



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Drabble Collection, M/M, Mild Smut, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-11-11
Packaged: 2018-04-23 19:06:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4888531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oddport/pseuds/Oddport
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The pairing that's basically canon through the power of in-game achievements and Valve's Spanish-language localization! This is a collection of drabbles featuring Heavy and Medic that run the gamut from fluff to smut. But even the smut is pretty fluffy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Morning After

He knows the other half of the bed is empty before he even opens his eyes. He is not surprised. Yet there is a part of him that had hoped that the night before was something other than a release of tensions. That breathless endearments, panted in a language more accustomed to barking commands, carried meaning beyond the simple need for release.

“Apologies.”

The word is half-whispered, half-yawned, and followed by a quick peck behind his ear.

“Doktor?”

The bed dips as the other man nestles himself up against the broad back that will block the early morning light for at least a little longer. “ _Die Taube_ n are fussy if not fed on time.”


	2. Inspiration

“ _Libe_ , you’ve been staring at that paper for the past two hours.”

Heavy started Medic’s hands came to rest on his shoulders. Bozhe, the man was as silent as a spy when he wanted to be. Long surgeon’s fingers slowly began to work their way into tight muscles as they sought out the tension they had seen in the large man’s posture. Heavy sighed as he leaned into the touch, a welcome distraction from his frustration.

“The words, they do not come easy to me.”

Those talented hands moved downward, sliding over the light fabric of Heavy’s shirt, tracing the lines of the muscles underneath. Heavy imagined Medic reciting anatomy in his head. Trapezius, deltoids, biceps. Each was outlined and caressed, Medic’s chin came to rest on Heavy’s shoulder as he made his way down to intertwine their fingers together.

“No? Really? You always have such lovely things to say to me.” The teasing was gentle and the doctor smiled as he felt the other man chuckle.

“Perhaps I use you as muse, then?” Heavy pushed his chair back and pulled Medic around to face him. “Mother Russia is being cruel tonight.”

“That seems to be a theme in Russian literature.”

“You would prefer we speak of Nietzsche or some other German?”

“No need. I already have my _Übermensch_.”

Another chuckle was elicited from Heavy as he drew Medic in to stand between his legs, his arms wrapped around the other man’s waist. He let his head rest against his lover’s stomach. Medic had long since divested himself of the trappings of his profession. Even his vest and boots had been removed, leaving him simply in his slacks and shirt. This close Heavy could smell the sweat and dirt from the day’s battle, the antiseptic smell of the various cleaners Medic used to scrub down his surgery, and the starch used in his laundry. Those hands that could hurt or heal in equal measure came up and traced the line of fuzz that was all that remained of what was once a full head of hair in his youth.

“Come to bed, _Schatz_.” Medic whispered, stepping back and pulling Heavy along with him towards their bed. “Let us see if we can find your inspiration.”

Heavy was glad to leave the desk behind, the blank pages hat has been taunting him all evening forgotten as he followed. Medic sat down, entirely too dressed to be in bed. He pulled Heavy down for a kiss, soft and unrushed, fingers again caressing his large lover’s head. A sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan escaped his throat as Heavy’s hand came up to start undoing the white shirt that somehow escaped any blood spatter. Shirttails were pulled free and Medic relinquished his hold long enough to shrug it and his undershirt off. The simple leather belt and slacks were shed and the Doctor lay bare against the white sheets, half hard under the appreciative gaze of the one man who was ever allowed to see beyond his professional veneer.

“ _Tak krasivyy_ …” Heavy murmured as he rid himself of his own clothing, and joined Medic on the bed. Straddling Medic’s waist, Heavy placed a large arm on either side of his head to hold his body above the other man. Blue eyes gazed up at him. Those long fingers were back, tracing Heavy’s thick torso and appreciating the power that was housed within it. The feather light touch trailed lower, brushing the base of Heavy’s cock. “Kasper.” He whispered Medic’s name, something so intimate given their profession that it almost felt wrong. He was rewarded by those fingers wrapping around his erection and teasing him to full hardness.

“Michi.” Medic’s voice held a smile as Heavy pressed into his hand. “I want to feel you.”

Heavy shifted his weight and brought one arm down in between them, his large hand covering Medic’s and, with a sigh, pulled those fingers away. He lowered himself down, bringing his length into contact with Medic’s own, now hard, and replacing their hands. Medic’s free hand reached up to grasp Heavy’s arm, snaking up to bring their mouths together in a deep kiss as Heavy started to guide their shared grip into a soft rhythm. Medic’s head dropped back into the pillows as the large hand on his own started to move. It was slow and controlled even as Heavy’s breaths came in heavy pants and the hand near Medic’s head fisted into the sheets.

The friction was delicious, and Medic pushed his heels into the bed to get more. Heavy grinned at the sight of his docktor’s control starting to slip as his hips bucked into their hands, although he knew he would not last much longer himself. He lowered his head to kiss the soft skin of Medic’s neck. “Ya lyublyu tebya.” His voice rumbled as he increased their pace. A few more strokes, and Medic’s hips bucked as he came into their hands, with Heavy following a moment later.

They stayed in that position for a minute, letting their breathing return to normal and enjoying the silence. Finally, their grip released, and Medic wiped his hand on the sheets before letting out a contented sigh. “Feeling inspired, _Schatz_?” He asked as Heavy rolled over next to him and pulled up the duvet.

“Feeling sleepy.” Heavy answered with a smile. “We will see about the writing in the morning.”


	3. The Scientific Method

“I have always been interested in the phenomena of nocturnal penile tumescence.”

Medic rattled off the words in the same tone he would have used to explain the Medi-Gun’s inner workings to Engineer.

“But as you can imagine, self-study is horribly unreliable in terms of accurate data.”

Heavy tried to figure out how he had ended up strapped to his bed, naked, and with a fully clothed Medic standing next to him with a tape recorder in hand. There was a vague memory from the night prior, a request to do some testing the next morning. Not being a stranger to having his insides poked and prodded by the doctor, he had agreed.

“The time is 08:46. Room temperature has been adjusted to 21 degrees Celsius for subject’s comfort.” Medic stood in the corner of his room, fiddling with the thermostat with one hand and holding his tape recorder loosely in the other. Once satisfied with that the room was at the optimum temperature for the morning's activities, the doctor turned his attention back to the man on the bed.

Heavy tugged gently at the soft sheepskin restraints that bound him to the headboard. His feet were similarly restricted, legs spread wide. The leather straps around his ankles were cinched around the iron bedpost in such a way that his feet were slightly elevated over the mattress with one of his spare pillows tucked under his hips. He shifted slightly to get a feel for his range of movement and became awkwardly aware that he was partially hard.

The chair from his office had been brought in, and now Medic rolled it around to the edge of the bed before perching himself on its edge. There was a final cursory check of his subject to ensure proper circulation, before setting his recorder down on the small nightstand next to the bed.

“Subject is a 46 year old male, uncircumcised, healthy, in good physical condition.”

Medic placed his hand on Heavy’s abdomen, pressing down lightly to feel the hard muscle that lay under a soft layer of fat. The hand was warm against his stomach, and slowly followed the trail of dark hair that lead down to his groin. Heavy’s took in a deep breath as fingers traced along the edge of his shaft before disappearing. Medic twisted in his chair, and a moment later the feeling of soft fabric brushed across his half hard length.

“Currently in at state of partial tumescence, subject has been conscious for approximately five minutes. Based on the partial engorgement of the corpus cavernosa and corpus spongiosum, the subject exhibits healthy blood flow of the cavernosal arteries.”

Heavy lifted his head, trying to see what the doctor was doing, but the angle of his body only let him see the smile playing on the other man’s lips.

“What…”

Medic brought a finger up to his lips. “Shhhh. I am in the middle of a very delicate scientific endeavor.”

Heavy lay his head back on the pillow with an irritated huff.

“Is not science.”

That earned him an amused chuckle from Medic, who had turned his attention back to the slightly flagging erection in front of him.

“Testies currently relaxed.” Reaching down, he cupped Heavy’s balls, gently fondling them in his hand. His thumb caressed the base of Heavy’s cock, which twitched with renewed interest as the digit ran over the sensitive skin. “Although selective application of tactile stimuli appears to have a positive overall effect.”

Medic’s eyes flicked up to catch Heavy’s, and the Russian tried to scowl at the smug smile that was threatening to break across the doctor’s face.

The chair rolled slowly down the bed at Heavy felt Medic’s hand slide further up his shaft, slowly starting to pump, coaxing him along to full hardness.

“Foreskin fully retracted, the subject’s glans show a healthy color.”

Heavy moaned softly as he felt Medic’s thumb run across his head, brushing across the tip to catch the first few drops of precum that were starting to appear.

“Doktor…”

“Angle of erection is approximately sixty degrees and size... “ Medic murmured to himself as he withdrew his hand from Heavy’s cock. There was the sound of fabric, and he felt something lay against his length, then slowly wrap around to apply exquisitely light pressure to hypersensitive flesh. “14.2 centimeters long, with girth measuring… Hmmm, 5.1 centimeters.”

He almost sounded impressed.

That light pressure slipped away, replaced by the heat of Medic’s hand. The doctor rested his chin on his right hand, watching Heavy, as his left slowly starting to run the length of the man’s shaft. Fingertips traced the edge of the swollen head, brushing the tips of his nails across the ridged band just underneath, causing a shiver to run the length of Heavy’s body. He growled and tried to press up into Medic’s grip, but the restraints on his legs prevented him from getting any sort of purchase on the mattress under him. He dropped his head to the pillow and let out a whine, twisting his hips to try and get more friction from the doctor’s hand.

“Hmmm… Interesting.”

Medic smiled down at him, left hand sliding down to massage his base.

“Scrotum fully tight.” Medic squeezed lightly, causing Heavy’s hips to buck. The doctor threw a quick glance to the clock on the nightstand. “The time is now 08:54. Beginning test of the subject’s endurance.”

Bozhe moy…

He sucked in a breath as Medic started to pump him with even, deliberate tugs and with a detached, clinical expression that was completely undermined by the heat in his eyes. His fingers grasped at air, trying to find something, anything that would just let him push into that warm hand that circled around him and was moving too.. damn.. slow!

“08:55.”

Heavy whimpered, his body writhing as surgeon's fingers tickled and pulled at his cock. He felt the pressure building within him as Medic’s ministrations pulled him towards the edge. 

“08:56.” 

“Doktor, please…” 

Medic’s hand picked up speed and Heavy threw his head back with a howl. He felt himself tense as his release spilled across his stomach. As orgasm washed through him, Medic continued to pull, milking Heavy of every last drop of sensation until the large may lay spent on the bed. His breaths came in gasps as the white light faded from behind his eyes, slowly bringing the world back into focus.

Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, Medic wiped Heavy clean before starting to undo the restraints. Undoing each cuff, the doctor gently felt the skin, checking for any abrasions before moving to the next. Heavy merely watched, completely spent.

After his work was done, Medic picked the recorder from the table and pressed a button, stopping the recording. He ejected the small tape, placing it into the pocket of his vest.

“You are saving?”

“Of course. The notes are needed for comparison purposes next time.” 

“Next time?”

Medic leaned forward and gently patted the side of Heavy’s head. “Of course, Heavy. Being able to accurately reproduce one’s results is a core principle of scientific methodology.”


	4. The Voice

Medic leaned over the piles of paperwork that covered his desk. The past month had been packed full with one fight after another with BLU, which was all well and good in the moment, but now left him with a backlog that he couldn’t get away with ignoring anymore. Fitness reports that had been taken but not filed, requisitions and cost justifications, and he was dangerously low on replacement organs.

Bureaucratic trifles were the last thing that Medic wanted to be concerned with on the rare furlough day. Outside the sun was shining and he heard the sound of Demo and Soldier getting up to their own brand of explosive no good in the distance. Gritting his teeth, he stabbed his pen to the paper and scribbled his name on a request form for black bear livers.

Grizzlies were simply too large for a human torso.

The clock on the wall continued to tick as the hours slowly passed. Shadows slipped along the walls as the sun first rose into the sky and then started its descent towards the horizon. Gradually the piles of paper migrated from one side of Medic’s desk to the other as he progressed.

He was just over halfway done when he felt the distinct feeling of his mind starting to wander. Out in the hall he heard the sounds of his colleagues going about their day. Every little sound, from Demo’s boisterous laugh to Engineer’s steel toed boots was enough to make him lose all focus on the paperwork in front of him.

“Kak vy vse pozhivayete?”

Medic’s ears perked at the familiar voice just outside his office.

“U menya vse khorosho. Vy dolzhny poluchat' neskol'ko syurprizov na stantsii v blizhaysheye vremya.”

Heavy was out in the hall on the communal phone. The paper thin walls left little doubt as to who he was talking with. The rolling cadence of the man’s native language was almost lyrical, a sharp contrast to his halting command of English. Not that he understood a word that Heavy was saying. His command of Russian was far less than the giant’s grasp of English; a fact that he was quick to remind the man of whenever he started to apologize for being unable to express a thought.

“Net net. U menya vse v poryadke. Vrach zabotitsya obo mne.”

Medic let his head drop to the desk as he listened. Heavy spoke in Russian so infrequently. Even when they were alone he normally deferred to English until Medic prompted him back into his mother tongue. 

“YA skuchayu po vsem vam. YA nadeyus' uvidet' vas v blizhaysheye vremya. Zimniy otpusk v techeniye dvukh mesyatsev.”

Heavy’s voice dropped, tender in that way he always used speak to his loved ones back home. Medic knew he was talking to his mother or one of his sisters, but as he closed his eyes, he let his mind drift to those quiet times when the two of them were together. 

The room is dark, quiet, and secluded; warm and comfortable. It wouldn’t be possible to be any other way with Heavy laying next to him. Heavy is up on his side, gazing down at him with those intense blue eyes, his large hand slowly stroking Medic’s face before lazily moving down to caress its way down to trace the soft lines of the doctor’s body.

“YA khotel by novyy zimniy sviter.”

The nearness of that giant body next to his is enough to cause heat to pool in his stomach; that beautiful voice inches from his ear sending sparks through his body. Words he doesn’t understand drift past his conscious mind, leaving only the intent behind them. The tone slowly morphs from tender to suggestive as that hand continues to drift further down.

“Doktor.”

A happy moan slips past his slips as he shifts to try and prod Heavy on…

“Doktor?”

He jerked up as a hand fell on his shoulder. Blinking his eyes, he looked over to see Heavy standing next to him with an amused smile on his face. He could feel a flush start creeping up his neck as Heavy’s eyes flicked down to spy the bulge that was pressing into Medic’s trousers. 

“Did not think Doktor’s work so exciting.”

Medic shot a sideways glare at Heavy as he busied his hands straightening the papers in front of him. “You had a good phone call, ja?”

Heavy nodded. “Da. Was good.” The big man placed a hand over the doctor’s as he leaned over the desk, his lips inches from Medic’s ear. “Khotite, chtoby uslyshat' ob etom, prezhde chem ya poshel na khuy?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -How are you all doing?
> 
> -I am doing well. You should be receiving some surprises at the station soon.
> 
> -No, no. I am well. The doctor takes good care of me.  
> -I hope to see you soon. Winter furlough is in two months.
> 
> -I would love a new sweater for winter.
> 
> -Should I tell you about it before I fuck you?


End file.
